Easter Affairs
by flyin'rabbit
Summary: Forced to spend his Easter break with Muggles, Oliver did not expect anything but utter boredom. Yet 'two weeks without Quidditch' doesn't necessarily mean that he'll be standing firmly on the ground at all times... -Discontinued for now, sorry!-
1. Chapter 1

"Oi, Wood." Oliver looked up from his textbook and blinked at the student standing in front of him. He didn't actually know her, but he thought she was a friend of… Katie's?

"What is it?" he asked. He didn't really have the time to talk to this girl. The Quidditch season had just ended, and now he was busy trying everything in his power to get a spot on a professional team. And of course, there were also the NEWTs that would start in only a little over a month. You could say that Oliver Wood was busy, but that would be an understatement.

"Katie told me about your… predicament," the girl informed him, sliding down in the chair opposite him. Predicament? For a moment, Oliver didn't understand what she was talking about. Then he remembered the letter his parents had sent him only a few days earlier – about them being gone for the Easter holidays, so he wouldn't be able to come home. Still, they wanted him to keep up with his studies (you never knew what that could be good for later in his life), and not put all his spare time into his attempts to start a real Quidditch career.

"She did, huh?" He _might_ have complained about his parents not having their priorities straight to some people on his team, yes. He would have reconsidered doing that if he had known that they would, in turn, tell half the school.

"Your parents want you to study in the break," she noted, and Oliver nodded. "Are you planning on doing that?"

"Why do you want to know?" he asked her. "I don't even know you."

"Ah, of course," the girl said, a small smile playing on her lips. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Lori Roberts. Fourth year. As you already expected, I guess."

"Sort of," he admitted. The self-confidence this girl seemed to be oozing kind of put him off. He didn't feel entirely comfortable around her. "But – no, I think Quidditch will devour all my spare time."

"Is that the way you want it to be?" she asked, sitting back in her chair and cocking her head slightly to the side. "Do you think Quidditch is more important than your studies?"

"Honestly?" he asked. "Yeah, kind of." His future lay in Quidditch, after all. Not at all in something he should now be studying for.

"There are people who think differently," she informed him, as if he didn't already know that. She held out an envelope for him, and he took it, surprised. Opening it, he found a small note from the Head of his House – Professor McGonagall.

"Why do you have this?" he asked Lori, eyeing her strangely.

"She asked me to give this to you," the girl said in reply.

He felt her eyes on him the entire time he read the note. He actually read it a couple of times, trying to tell himself that it didn't really say what it said. He was seventeen, for Merlin's sake! He didn't need his parents to write to his school with instructions as to what he should do.

When he finally had to accept that the note really told him to find a place to go to – a friend's, most likely – for the Easter break, so that he could study in peace there, he stood up as swiftly as he could and marched out of the portrait hole. He could not just accept this so easily.

Only when he was almost at McGonagall's room, he noticed that he was being followed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lori tagging along as if it was something she did every day. That was slightly worrying.

"Ah, Mr Wood!" McGonagall greeted him as she saw him – her door was open, so that shouldn't be all too hard. "I take it you got my note?"

"This is ridiculous," Oliver spat as soon as he was inside the room. McGonagall didn't look fazed at all; she must've expected this kind of reaction from him. "I'm seventeen! My parents don't need to tell me what to do, I can decide that for myself!"

"So you _do_ realise that if you choose to stay here and put all your time into writing letters to Quidditch teams, asking them to allow you to try out, you will most likely fail all your classes?" McGonagall asked strictly. "You might have to repeat this year."

That was rather radical, Oliver thought. He knew that he might not be the smartest student in his year, but there were enough people who got lower marks than he did on their essays and other assignments. "Professor, with all due respect," he started, "as I said, I'm seventeen. Shouldn't I be old enough to decide what's best for me? I doubt I'll fail if I – might put a little more time into Quidditch than into my studies. Besides, I won't really need any of these classes once I get on a professional team."

"I know that, Mr Wood," McGonagall said, "but your parents have requested for us to send you somewhere for the break where you can study in peace."

"Do I even have a choice in this matter?" Oliver asked, frowning a bit. It all sounded so… final.

"It's for the best, Mr Wood," McGonagall told him.

Oliver cursed under his breath. He was _so_ not happy with this – the break started in less than a week. "Fine," he muttered angrily. If he had to. If he _absolutely had to_. Then, he remembered something. "But I don't know anyone who's going home in the Easter holiday," he tried, using that argument as a last saviour.

"I am," a voice came from the doorway, and it appeared that Lori had been listening the entire time. "You could come with me."

"But – " Oliver spluttered. "I don't even know you!"

"Which is all the better," McGonagall intervened. "That way, I can be sure that you will study with all your might. Ms Roberts' parents are Muggles, so there will be no opportunity at all for you to play Quidditch, or have too many owls arrive for you."

"Did you also tell them already that I am coming, or what?" he asked the odd girl, and she smiled.

"Just sent them an owl. They will keep an eye on you, I'm sure."

Oliver snorted. This was just great. He would have to spend his Easter break with a bunch of Muggles this year, just because his own parents weren't in the country? Just because they wanted him to study, and not play and think about Quidditch all the time?

They didn't understand him at all.

"So, if that's all, Mr Wood – I have some work left to do. Thank you, Ms Roberts."

Lori smiled widely. "It's not a problem, Professor."

As they walked back to the common room – Lori skipping, Oliver trudging – he asked her, "Why are you even doing this?"

"To help out a fellow student," she answered innocently, but at his raised eyebrow, she gave in. "Fine. I'm hoping that taking you home for the break will make Fred jealous."

Oliver rolled his eyes. Just his luck. He wouldn't just be stuck with Muggles this Easter, but with a lovesick teenager as well. He could barely wait.

* * *

**A/N**: And thus begins another story... what do you think so far? If you have any comments or questions or anything else, don't hesitate to leave a review!

Oh, and: **Disclaimer**: I don't own the world of Harry Potter, sadly...


	2. Chapter 2

Although Oliver had hoped that news wouldn't get out about him having to go to some Muggle family for the Easter break so that he would at least study for his NEWTs, Lori made it a well-known fact all around the school. He definitely hated her for that, and he hoped dearly that her family wasn't as attention seeking as she was – Merlin, this was horrible enough already. Wherever he went, he was followed by looks and rumours – some people even seemed to think Lori was his girlfriend. Well, he made sure quickly enough that they knew that was not true.

That, in turn, aggravated Lori, since she hoped that Fred would notice her by taking Oliver along for the Easter break. Oliver could already tell that this was going to be the worst Easter he had ever had. He already disliked the girl whom he was staying with, he couldn't play any Quidditch, and he would probably be bored to death by the end of the holiday.

"Is she always like that?" he asked Katie one day in the common room. It was the night before the break started, and he figured that Katie, of all people, should know more about Lori. They were friends, after all.

Looking slightly flustered for some reason, Katie glanced up at him. "Yeah, Lori's usually this enthusiastic and eager to get what she wants. It's pretty great, I think."

Oliver huffed. "Great? Annoying, that's what it is."

"She means well," Katie replied feebly, but Oliver shook his head resolutely.

"I bet she does. She's trying to ruin my life, by the looks of it. And all that for a boy? Why can't she just tell him if she likes him that much?"

"Well…," Katie started, looking at the floor again. "I – I…"

At that moment, Fred walked by, and Oliver decided to just put an end to this. Perhaps he could just stay here, and Fred could go with Lori. Perfect solution, right?

"Hey, Fred," he started, "listen. Do you – "

"No!" Katie exclaimed, her eyes wide. "No, Fred, nothing. Just – nothing's wrong. Ignore him." When Fred walked away, shooting a suspicious glance at them over his shoulder, she hissed at Oliver, "What are you doing? You can't just tell him that!"

"Why not?" Oliver asked. He didn't see a problem. Except for his own one right now, of course.

"You just can't!" Katie cried out. "I mean – no. Wait till she hears. She'll kill you!"

Oliver shrugged. "Can't be worse than spending Easter at her house."

"Her parents are nice people," Katie told him, but before Oliver could retort, Lori seemed to have arrived.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, and Katie shook her head.

"I'll tell you later," she replied softly, and Oliver walked away. He wasn't really in the mood for girl talk. He never was, but tonight especially.

**O**

The next day, he preferred to stay out of Lori's way as well as he could. Just like he had the few previous days. So needless to say, he was far from amused when he sat down in the Hogwarts Express, and before the train even left the station, the door slid open and Lori walked in, followed by a boy who must've been in his first year or something.

"Don't you think we'll see enough of each other these upcoming days?" he asked her, frowning as she took a seat and the boy sat down next to her. "Can't you at least leave me alone _now_?"

"We're here to discuss a few simple things with you," Lori informed him. "First of all, this is Steven, my younger brother. He's a first year, also a Gryffindor, and a big fan of yours."

Oliver didn't even attempt to hide a groan, and he closed his eyes. He hadn't thought that it could get any worse, but apparently, it could. A younger brother, an eleven-year-old who idolised him? Awesome.

"See?" Lori was now telling the boy. "He's not that exciting. He's very annoying, and he already hates us because he'd rather stay at Hogwarts during the break and fail all his exams."

"Hey!" Oliver cried out indignantly. "I was _not_ going to fail all my exams if I had stayed at Hogwarts!"

Lori waved his argument away, and continued. "Now, our parents will love you. They adore everything that has to do with magic, and since you're officially of age in the wizarding world, you can perform magic out of school. Just wave your wand a couple of times and you'll be freed from doing chores. Or better, do the chores by magic and save us from them as well."

Oliver briefly considered telling them that he had left his wand behind, but they would never believe that. A wizard was nowhere without his wand (and, in Oliver's case, his broom and Quidditch).

"Just watch out for Michelle," Steven warned him, speaking up for the first time. Oliver raised an eyebrow at the younger boy.

"Michelle?" he asked inquisitively.

"Our older sister," Lori said, pulling a face. "She's _awful_. She hates everything that has to do with magic. She'll hate you, I reckon. Just because you're magical? Yes. That's the way she is."

"So don't perform any magic when she's around," Steven warned him, but Lori grinned maniacally.

"No, do perform magic when she's around. You'll freak her out. You'll turn her into a right mess. She deserves it."

"How can someone hate magic?" Oliver wondered aloud. "That sounds almost impossible."

"Well, she does," Lori reaffirmed. "But she's just jealous that we're magical and she's not."

"Anyway, she's probably studying for her own tests too," Steven suddenly said, casting a sideways glance at Lori. "Won't she?"

"Oh, yeah," Lori replied, nodding. "She will. So you might be lucky – she often goes to the library to study."

Oliver nodded, making a mental note to avoid the older sister. He also made a mental note to not believe everything they told him, though – after all, he couldn't think of a single person who hated magic. He would have to find a way to stick to both memos at once, then.

"Is that it?" he asked the two siblings. "If so, I'd like some peace and quiet before we arrive in London."

"We'll be silent," Lori assured him hastily. "We promise."

"Get out," he told them, and he could swear Steven yelped a little. They scrambled up from their seats and shuffled out, but not before casting another glance over their shoulders. Oliver decided to ignore that – if he was going to acknowledge them now, they might come back. And he did not want that.

A few seconds after leaving, Lori stuck her head around the door again. "I'm also still mad at you for almost telling Fred that," she told him, and Oliver shrugged. He didn't care.

"It's not as if I like you all that much, so feel free to be mad at me as much as you want," he told her, glancing out of the window. With a huff, Lori left, slamming the door behind her.

**O**

Late in the afternoon, when the train finally arrived in London, Oliver wasn't exactly in a hurry to get off the train. Lori tapping her foot impatiently was the first thing he noticed when he stepped out, and it amused him greatly.

"Did you have to take so long?" she hissed venomously. Then, in a more normal tone, she introduced him to her parents. "Mum, dad, this is Oliver. He's coming over to study."

As they shook hands, her father commented with a suspicious glance, "Yes, we'll make sure of that. We'll make sure that he'll study."

Oliver briefly wondered if maybe, Lori's father thought that he was actually there for Lori; oh, he was very mistaken if he really thought that. Muttering a greeting to her mother, he shook her hand as well.

"It's nice to meet you, Oliver," she said, smiling. It was only too bad that Oliver couldn't say the same thing.

"We thought we'd get some Chinese on our way home," Mr Roberts told his kids as they walked out of the station. "You like that, don't you?"

It appeared that they did, for both Steven and Lori did some sort of weird happy dance. Oliver stifled a groan. For once, he didn't care if he ate or not. He just wanted to get away from these people already.

"Have you ever been in a car?" Mrs Roberts asked him with great interest. "Or is that a Muggle thing?"

"It's a Muggle thing," he replied curtly, "but I've heard of them."

"It's completely different from a broom," Lori shouted over her shoulder, and Oliver rolled his eyes. Yes, he'd got that far. He might be here because McGonagall thought he wouldn't pass his NEWTs if he didn't, but he wasn't that much of an idiot.

"That must be very uncomfortable," Mrs Roberts said, trying very hard to engage him in some sort of conversation. Oliver shrugged.

"You get used to it," he responded. "The brooms we use for flying aren't the same brooms you use for cleaning. They're made by broom companies who make sure to make them as comfortable as possible."

"Of course," Mrs Roberts said, and she fell silent, probably admitting defeat.

"But what about Michelle?" Steven asked his father. "Doesn't she need to eat?"

"She's at a friend's," his mother informed him. "She could have dinner there, she assured us."

"Good," Lori muttered darkly. By now, they had arrived at the car, and Oliver stared for a moment. Sure, he might've heard of those things, but he had never really seen one, let alone been in one. This would be an experience he'd never forget. Which was a pity, as he planned on forgetting about this Easter break as quickly as he could.

Surprised though he was, he managed to keep his cool, and he just stared right ahead, trying not to wince at the noise the car (and its occupants) made. The fact that the streets of London were incredibly busy at this time didn't help his slight fear of crashing here or there.

During dinner, he mostly listened as the family exchanged their stories about what had happened between Christmas and now. They made it sound like many things had happened, but Oliver doubted that that was true. They probably wouldn't have any stories left to tell each other during the rest of the break. Either way, he still felt like an intruder – wouldn't it have been a better idea to drop him off first? They probably didn't trust him enough for that though, and he could see their point. He was just a stranger to them, and who would let a stranger loose in their house? He was sure he would've given the older sister quite a scare if she came home earlier than her parents.

After Mr Roberts had paid the bill, they all got into the car again, and fortunately, the road wasn't as busy anymore. The fact that they were no longer in London could also have to do with that.

In the middle of a very normal and boring looking area, they stopped all of a sudden. Oliver looked out of the window, seeing nothing but boredom looming in front of him. This was going to be just fantastic.

* * *

**A/N**: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! :( Hopefully you still enjoyed the chapter! If you have anything to say or ask about the chapter/story/..., please leave me a review! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Yes, I know - once again, a terribly long wait, and I'm very sorry... again. I suppose I could say that it won't happen again, but that's highly unlikely, knowing me - so I'll just go with 'I'll _try_ to update sooner next time' :) Hopefully you'll enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Oliver was the last to enter the house, and as he did, he trudged past the door post as slowly as possible. The house looked normal enough on the inside, but that didn't have to mean anything at all, he knew from experience.

"Well," Lori started, clapping her hands and looking at Oliver expectantly, "can you get our trunks to our rooms?"

"Oh, that's right!" her mother exclaimed. "You are allowed to do magic, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," he responded, and his hand was halfway in his robe when the kitchen door opened and a girl who looked almost exactly like Lori – only a few years older, of course - appeared.

"I thought I heard something," she commented, looking around the hall. "Why are you all standing here? It's not exactly spacey."

Lori was already rolling her eyes, but her sister ignored her. Their mother quickly answered, probably sensing an upcoming fight. "We were hoping that Oliver here would show us some magic."

The girl blinked and turned towards Oliver, as if noticing him for the first time. "Ah," she commented. "How fascinating. Hi, I'm Michelle."

With a small nod, Oliver shook her hand politely. She seemed perfectly normal so far – not against the idea of magic at all.

"Careful, Mich," Lori sneered. "Who knows, you might catch something."

Before Michelle could retort, their father spoke up. "When will you two ever stop fighting? Aren't you mature enough to at least accept that the other person's living under the same roof?"

"Of course, dad," Michelle replied, rolling her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me – I have some books that don't study themselves."

"She's nuts," Lori told Oliver when her sister appeared to have reached the first floor. "Completely crazy about everything that has to do with history and books." She shook her head as if not understanding what was so great about that. Oliver just nodded.

After taking out his wand, he muttered an incantation that caused the trunks to fly up into the air. Mr and Mrs Roberts gasped audibly as the trunks zoomed up the stairs and came to a halt there. Then, all of them followed the trunks – Oliver, for one, would like to see where he would be sleeping.

While Lori and Steven pulled their trunks into what were probably their respective bedrooms, and their parents followed Steven, Michelle poked her head around her bedroom door. "So you can make trunks fly," she commented in a tone that suggested she wasn't nearly as impressed as her parents.

"It's better than having to drag them upstairs by hand," Oliver replied, shrugging.

"It builds character," she told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'll build character in other ways than that," he concluded the conversation. With a doubtful look, Michelle closed her door again, and only then it struck Oliver that he should've asked her if she knew where he would be sleeping. But then again, maybe she would've told him that he must be big enough to figure that out by himself, or something like that. He decided then and there that he didn't like her a lot indeed. Not because she hated magic – she wasn't impressed by it, but she hadn't explicitly shown her distaste – but because she seemed so… stuck up. It wasn't a nice trait.

After another ten minutes, Mrs Roberts emerged from her son's room and rushed over to him. "Oliver, dear, I'm sorry! We forgot all about you, Steven had so much to tell us. Here, let me show you to your room."

She opened another door and walked in, Oliver following in her wake. The house might've looked rather small from the outside, but it was quite spacey inside. He even wondered whether this wasn't perhaps the work of wizards – a few spells to enlarge the place would've been enough. The room he was staying in, however wasn't very big. Still, he would only be staying for two weeks, he told himself, so he would be out of here soon enough.

"Thanks, Mrs Roberts," he said, looking around. She smiled faintly.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Lori and Steven will be very happy to help as well, I think."

Oliver nodded, wondering if she knowingly left out her oldest daughter. Or her husband, for that matter.

"Are you coming down for some tea?" she was now asking him, and he shook his head.

"No, thank you," he replied politely. "I'm rather… tired from the journey. I think I'd better go to bed."

She nodded. "Of course. We'll see you again tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Oliver."

"Goodnight," he muttered, letting go of his trunk for the first time since he entered the room, and he sat down on the bed. At least it wasn't stone-hard.

He then realised that nobody had told him where he could find the bathroom. Wonderful. He walked out of his room and looked around. He knew the other three rooms, so that had to mean that the fifth and final door connected to the hallway was the bathroom. He slowly opened it and looked around. Yes, this was definitely the bathroom.

Oliver walked in, not bothering to close the door. It suddenly hit him that it was horribly dark in here. The hallway itself had been light enough, but in here, it was pitch black. Pulling out his wand again, he muttered, "_Lumos_." It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

He was managing just fine when someone came walking in and managed to get the light to shine. "What are you doing here?" Michelle asked him, frowning.

"I'm going to bed," Oliver replied, grabbing his wand with slight frustration.

"Why didn't you just switch on the light?" she asked, obviously already weirded out by his lack of knowledge of Muggle things.

"I didn't know how," he responded, gesturing around. "I mean, how do you do that? You walk in and suddenly, there's light."

She pointed at a small switch in the corner of the room. "You just push it, and the light goes on. Don't forget to push it again when you leave, it doesn't automatically stop shining when you're not here anymore."

Oliver nodded in fascination. Maybe this week was good for something – he could learn how Muggles lived. Not that he had ever expressed a particular interest in that before, but he might as well try to get something out of this.

"You're going to walk around in that attire all week?" she asked, walking to the sink to wash her hands.

Oliver looked down at his outfit. He was wearing a shirt and trousers he usually wore underneath his school uniform. Lori had told him that that was something Muggles tended to wear as well, so he was a bit surprised by Michelle's remark. "Why? Is there anything wrong with it?"

"You don't look like a normal teenager," she responded, shrugging. "But hey, at least you're not wearing your robes or whatever it is you magical folks normally wear."

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, becoming more and more exasperated the longer their conversation went on. "Why isn't this normal?"

"It's far too… proper," she informed him, pulling a face. "Kids who live in this area never walk around like this."

"And?" he demanded, and she sighed.

"You'll have to fit in somewhat, don't you? Or were you planning on not leaving the house for over a week?"

"Yes," he replied, "that's the plan. But what's it to you?"

Her whole demeanour changed within seconds. She just stared at him coldly and said, "You're right. I couldn't care less."

As she marched out of the bathroom, he called after her, "You're just jealous."

"Jealous?" She snorted, as if he was saying something very funny, but she wasn't laughing, and neither was he. "You really don't know anything, do you? You're absolutely clueless." Shaking her head, she walked into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

When Oliver was done in the bathroom, he briefly considered leaving the light on, just to irk her. He decided against this quickly – what if she wasn't the first to come in here after him? Even though he still wasn't happy about this arrangement, he would have to make the best of this. And leaving the light on when it was just his first night here wasn't going to get him anywhere.

As he lay down in the bed, he slept within seconds, surprisingly. However, for once, his dreams, were restless, causing him to wake up multiple times that night. If he effectively wanted to study tomorrow, and lock himself away from everyone else in the house, he needed his rest – dreams that didn't make sense whatsoever didn't really help him with that.

* * *

**A/N**: So... dare I ask? What did you think of this? Let me know, please review! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: So... yes. Sorry, again, for taking so long to update. Not that this wasn't written yet, but apparently, when I don't feel like writing certain stories, I don't feel like updating them either. So, I'm not going to promise to update soon (look where it got me before) - but I will update some time :P In the meantime, hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, and please let me know what you think at the end!

* * *

The next morning, Oliver woke up early. He didn't know why – during breaks, he could usually sleep in if he wished to do so. The night hadn't exactly brought him the rest and calm that he had hoped for. Stupid, silly dreams. Rolling over, he tried to catch some more sleep. Anything was better than getting up at seven during a holiday.

Ten minutes later, he gave up. He was tired, but he didn't really dare to go back to sleep. Those dreams had freaked him out like he had never before been freaked out – hopefully he wouldn't continue to have them throughout the whole break.

Bleary-eyed, he rolled out of bed and walked out of the room. Fortunately, the hallway wasn't as dark as his room was, so he could easily find the bathroom. As he made to open the door, he found that it was locked. Frowning, he considered getting his wand to open it, but as he turned around and saw that the door to Michelle's room was wide open, he figured that its occupant might not like that very much. And not just because she apparently hated magic.

Not even trying to fight his curiosity, Oliver walked into the room and looked around. The curtains were opened just a crack, so the room was dimly lit. Lori had been right about the books obsession of her sister – there appeared to be tons of books in the room, most of them, from what Oliver could see, about history and related subjects. As for the rest, it looked like a rather normal room.

"What are you doing in my room?" Oliver turned around to face the girl who had just hissed those words at him.

He shrugged in response and said, "Good morning to you too."

With that, he walked out of the room and into the bathroom. He didn't feel like arguing with her first thing in the morning. Nobody in this entire house would appreciate that.

Unsurprisingly, Michelle was having breakfast already when Oliver arrived downstairs. He was certain that she wasn't going to make him any breakfast – she had given him a fleeting glance when he had come in, but now she was reading the morning newspaper. Not that her previous behaviour hadn't prepared him for this, of course.

It would probably be very impolite to just rummage through their cupboards and drawers like that, though. Oliver sighed. He would have to ask her for help if he wanted any food. Which he did.

"Sorry," he started carefully, not wanting her to freak out simply because he was talking to her. When she didn't reply, he walked towards the table and, raising an eyebrow, he coughed. That caused her to look up and raise an eyebrow in return.

"What is it?" she snapped. "Can't you see I'm reading?"

After sighing again, Oliver asked, "Could you tell me where I can find… the food? And a dish? And… other breakfast tools?"

Glaring up at him, Michelle stood up. Without saying a word, she pulled open a few drawers and cabinets and within seconds, everything Oliver could possibly need to make his breakfast was there, on the kitchen sink.

As she sat back down, he said, "Thanks." She just scoffed and turned back to her paper. Turning back to the sink, Oliver pulled a face. If she was not a morning person, why did she insist on getting up so early?

He quietly made himself some breakfast with the stuff provided, and then he sat down as well, but at the other side of the table – as far away from Michelle as possible.

The silence, he felt, was rather heavy, and he wondered if she noticed that too. If she did, she did a good job at hiding it. She kept on munching her food and reading the paper as if nothing was going on. But something _was_ going on. She was flat out ignoring him.

Sure, she didn't know him at all, but she could make some effort to help him feel at home here, couldn't she? A little angrily, Oliver finished his food, wondering what on earth her problem was. Where did that attitude come from? It wasn't as if she was such a special person; at least, not that he knew of.

Not wanting to stay in the same room as her any longer, Oliver stood up. When he was almost out of the door, Michelle decided to speak up again. "Aren't you going to clean that up?" she asked, not looking impressed by his walking away. He felt like shoving that attitude of hers down her throat, but he figured that wouldn't be such a good idea for various reasons.

Rolling his eyes, he took out his wand, and Michelle eyed it apprehensively. With a few waves, everything he had used to make breakfast was clean and stored away. Smirking at her a little triumphantly, Oliver turned around again, planning to leave without saying anything.

"You're so lazy," she muttered – and that did it for him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, and she looked up from the paper again.

"You can't even muster the energy to walk over and put the things away by yourself?" she asked sarcastically. "That's just plain lazy."

"It's much easier this way," Oliver argued, but Michelle only shrugged.

"I prefer the term idleness."

Fuming, Oliver marched out of the kitchen. If she thought that he was going to fight with _her_ over something small as this, she was sorely mistaken. Sure, it stung that she thought he was lazy while he was obviously not, but at the same time, he couldn't care less about what she thought.

He had already stormed up the first few steps of the stairs when he remembered that he wasn't at Hogwarts or at home, and that there were some people still in bed. After creeping up the remainder of the steps as quietly as he could, he snuck into his bedroom as soon as he arrived on the first floor.

Since there was nothing else he could do now, he might as well just study, no matter how boring that sounded.

Around lunch, Lori had stopped by to ask if he was coming down or if he preferred to stay in his room. Not minding the interruption at all for a change, Oliver had joined the family downstairs (just Lori, Steven and their mother – their father was out sporting and Oliver didn't even bother asking where Michelle was. He didn't exactly care). After that, he had gone back to his room to study.

When it was time for dinner, it seemed to be Steven's turn to make him come downstairs to eat. Upon entering the kitchen, Oliver noticed that the whole family was seated already – save for Mrs Roberts, who was still busy putting the food on the table. Her husband was reading the paper now, and the kids were fighting. Well, Lori and Steven were fighting, Michelle was just gazing out of the window.

During dinner, the family exchanged some small-talk, and Lori and Steven continued telling tales of what had happened at Hogwarts so far. Lori, Oliver noticed, kept looking over at Michelle, to see how she was receiving the news. Her sister kept her face void of emotions, and she just ate her food. Merlin, those sisters really seemed to love each other a lot…

Afterwards, Lori and Steven were told to do the dishes, which they didn't appear to like very much. They begged their parents to have Oliver just do it by magic, and while their mother seemed to like that idea, their father did not. Oliver himself didn't mind at all – it didn't look like it would be a huge undertaking to him, but he didn't think Mr Roberts would be very happy with him if he just charmed the dishes to do themselves.

Instead, Oliver excused himself to go back to his room. Maybe he could write his friends, or do something else. He felt like he'd done enough studying so far today, but he also didn't feel like staying down here with the family.

"Do you have to study?" Mrs Roberts asked when he was about to walk upstairs. "You can watch some television with us, if you'd like to."

Not knowing what a television was, Oliver quickly shook his head. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Michelle snorted. "Typical," she muttered under het breath, and her father shot her a stern glance.

"Michelle, be nice," he warned her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Why? He wouldn't even notice the difference." While Oliver glared at her, she just looked smug. He had to restrain himself from shouting at her – he'd do that another time, he promised himself, but not while her entire family was present. Maybe he could also hex her then. On the other hand, that might get him in trouble with the Ministry, as she was still a Muggle.

Stupid Muggle.

* * *

**A/N**: What do you think? Was it good, bad, somewhere in between? If you have any comments/thoughts/questions about this, let me know, please leave a review! :)


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Oliver got out of bed a little later than the day before to avoid new clashes with Michelle. He simply wasn't in the mood for those. Standing up later meant, however, that the weird dreams, which had returned, had more time to consume him. And he didn't like that one bit.

When he arrived in the kitchen, Mrs Roberts was just making breakfast. She greeted him happily and offered to make him some breakfast too. He tried to say no, but she wouldn't have it. While they ate, she asked him all sorts of questions about growing up in a wizarding family, which bemused him slightly. It turned out that his upbringing had been rather different from the one the kids living in this house had had.

"Don't mind Michelle, by the way," she commented suddenly, and Oliver looked up from his plate in surprise.

"What?" he asked, confused. He hadn't really seen this coming.

"She's just stressed out, what with her… final exams coming up," Mrs Roberts chuckled. It didn't sound very genuine, though. "And Lori knows exactly how to get to her."

"She doesn't like magic much," Oliver mentioned.

"No, she doesn't," Mrs Roberts admitted. "She was pretty disappointed when Lori got her Hogwarts letter. She doesn't talk about it much. Or at all, really."

"I can handle it," Oliver assured her.

Before she could say anything else, there were stomps in the living room and seconds later, Michelle emerged, looking livid. "I'm right here, in case you didn't know," she hissed angrily. Not saying anything else, she stomped out of the kitchen again, and up the stairs.

"She's a bit sensitive about the topic," her mother told Oliver, who had already reached that conclusion.

"That's okay," he assured her again, but he still didn't get it. Even if Michelle was disappointed, how could someone _hate_ magic? And why did she feel the need to act the way she did towards him? What had he ever done to her?

o-o-o-o-o

The entire morning, Oliver tried to memorise little facts from his History of Magic book, but it was just very boring. It was awful that his parents had managed to pester him into taking that class for his NEWTs, along with several others. He didn't even know why they had been so keen on him continuing to study the History of Magic. Binns only ever spoke about Goblin revolts, and the book, though a little more enjoyable than Binns' monotonous lectures, wasn't all too interesting either.

Planning on doing something a little more interesting (as interesting as his books and classes got, that was) in the afternoon, he walked down to the kitchen around lunch time. Apart from Mrs Roberts, there was no one else – apparently, Lori and Steven were visiting some of their Muggle friends. Oliver wondered briefly how they would explain their absence throughout the year, but he was certain that they had thought about that ages ago.

"It's what they always do," their mother explained when he asked about that practice. "They come home for Christmas or Easter or the summer, and they're always away, meeting up with their friends here in the neighbourhood."

Oliver nodded. It was as if McGonagall had known this beforehand. Not only did she send him along with a girl several years younger than him whom he didn't even know, it also turned out that almost the entire family was always away. Nothing that could distract him from studying for two weeks straight.

Mrs Roberts had started talking again, not minding his silence at all. "Of course, when Lori got her letter, there was a slight panic in how we could best explain this to her friends and the neighbours. Especially since Michelle didn't go anywhere. We suspected that Steven might get a letter some day as well, so we had to come up with a good excuse."

"I bet Steven was elated when he got his letter," Oliver muttered when she fell silent.

"Oh, he definitely was!" she replied cheerfully. "As was Lori, of course."

Oliver briefly wondered how they had solved the problem of what everyone would think, but he decided not to ask about it. He would surely be stuck here for much, much longer if he asked about it.

"Do you have a lot of studying to do today?" Mrs Roberts asked him when they were done, and Oliver shrugged.

"Officially, yes, I do."

"Would you mind picking up a few groceries for me in the local supermarket?" she asked. "I'm rather busy, and there's no food for tonight. Normally I'd ask Michelle, but she's… well, out."

He shrugged again, and responded, "Sure, I could do that."

She smiled gratefully and walked into the living room. Unsure whether he should follow or not, Oliver stayed where he was. When Mrs Roberts returned, she gave him a few notes, which he just blinked at.

"Uh – sorry, but what's this?" He was certain that it was probably a stupid question, but he honestly didn't know.

"It's our money," she informed him, and Oliver stared at it in wonder. This was money? Muggles could actually pay with this? What a crazy world this was. "And – here you go, this is the list with things you need to buy. If you want to, you can buy yourself a snack, in case you get hungry while studying."

"Oh, no, that's alright," he said quickly, not wanting to abuse their hospitality too much. He didn't want to be here in the first place, so he shouldn't get too dependent on them. He wasn't planning on coming back here after this episode was over, and he didn't want to be tied to this family forever. Or maybe he was overreacting. It was only a snack, after all. Those shouldn't be too expensive, right?

"For the trouble," Mrs Roberts told him. "Thanks to you, I don't have to go. And you probably have better things to do as well today."

Better, yes. Nicer, probably not.

Shrugging for the third time during the conversation, Oliver stood up. "Well, then. Where's that supermarket?"

After she had explained the directions to him, he left. All these houses looked exactly the same – he could only hope that he would be able to find the way back later.

Somehow, he did find the supermarket, and it hadn't even been that hard. A little more confident now, he walked in, and immediately blinked. It was much larger than the shops his parents usually went to for buying food. Glancing down at the list of needed supplies, he frowned. This would be interesting.

Grabbing a basket at the entrance, he continued walking, taking it all in. Those Muggle sure knew how to get as many food, drinks, and other stuff in one place. Scanning over the list again, he now noticed that some of the things listed on there didn't sound familiar to him at all.

Maybe he should leave those for the end.

He didn't know how long it took him to find each item on the list, but he was sure that the people working in the shop must be wondering if this was the first time he did this. And it was – not that they needed to know. Sometimes, it had taken him ages to find something, but he didn't dare ask for help. What if he accidentally said something stupid that would lead to the wizarding world being exposed, thanks to him? He didn't want that to happen.

"Oi, you," he suddenly heard behind him, and before he could turn around, the list was snatched out of his hands. When he was about to protest, he noticed that it was just Michelle – he could take her on.

"What?" he snapped, and she looked up from the list, annoyed.

"What's taking you so long?" she demanded. "Did you get lost, or what?"

"Maybe once," he replied defiantly. "Or twice." Or more times. But he wasn't going to tell _her_.

"Typical," she muttered, and he knew he could have seen _that_ one coming.

"What are you doing here?" he asked curiously as she inspected his basket.

"Mum was wondering what was taking you so long," she responded curtly. "So when I got home, she immediately told me to go and find you."

"Oh," he commented. "Alright."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on." She marched away from him as quickly as she could, and while Oliver preferred to stay away from her, he followed anyway. It was like picking between two evils, and he didn't like standing in the middle of a supermarket at all.

Besides, he was still carrying the basket. When he reached Michelle again, she seemed to have found most items that he couldn't even identify. He couldn't help but blink at her in surprise as she shoved it all in the basket. Frowning back at him, she didn't say anything either.

"Let's go," she suggested in the end, breaking the eye-contact and walking away briskly, though not at the same hasty pace she did before. It appeared that they had everything now, as she headed straight for the cash register.

After Michelle, who demanded the money from Oliver, had paid, they walked back. Although he was glad that he didn't have to worry about getting lost, he couldn't say he like his companion a whole lot. She didn't say anything – heck, she didn't even acknowledge that he was still there – and she let him carry all the shopping bags. He felt used.

Luckily, her mother seemed to agree with him, for as she saw them coming, she told Michelle off for letting Oliver, who was, after all, their guest, carry all the bags. Michelle just rolled her eyes and said, "Come on, mum. He's a boy, of course he's better at carrying bags than I am. Besides, wasn't he some sort of athlete? He can handle it."

With that, she disappeared up the stairs, and her mother shook her head. "I'm sorry, Oliver," she told him. "You should've just handed her some bags if they were too heavy."

"No, that's alright," he muttered in reply. It wasn't that the bags were heavy – because they weren't – but the way Michelle acted was just annoying.

Mrs Roberts sighed. "Give me those bags, I'll store everything away. You can just go upstairs study for a couple of hours. I'll call you down when it's time for dinner."

Nodding, Oliver walked upstairs as well, and before he arrived there, he was almost blown away by the sudden noise coming from the first floor. He narrowed his eyes. It seemed that Michelle liked playing her music at a very high volume. While that might always be the case, he suspected that she was doing this to irk him even further. But why? What had he done to her? And didn't she need to study as well?

Too bad for her, Oliver knew some useful spells to keep his room a very, very silent place.

o-o-o-o-o

Unsurprisingly, during dinner, Mrs Roberts asked Michelle why on earth she was playing that music at such an absurdly loud volume, and Oliver could've sworn the girl glanced over at him before replying.

"I just felt like it. Why? It's not forbidden, is it?"

"I could hear it all the way downstairs," her mother informed her, and her father looked up from his plate. Lori just grinned gleefully. "Besides, don't you need to study?"

"I'll do that tomorrow again," Michelle replied stubbornly.

"Weren't you studying as well?" her father asked Oliver.

Before he could reply, Michelle said, "He can go to the library to study, can't he?"

"Michelle," her mother warned her. "Lori is never allowed to play her music so loudly when you need to study, remember? Be nice."

"It's okay," Oliver said quickly. "There are spells to keep sounds out of the room."

"So that's why you didn't hear me when I called you from downstairs," Lori commented, sounding a bit irritated. After all, she now had had to climb up the stairs all the way to the first floor to fetch Oliver for dinner.

Michelle looked positively livid when Oliver made his comment, but she didn't speak up again. Instead, she just stabbed her food with her knife and fork, and he couldn't help but feel a little triumphant.

When dinner was done, Mr Roberts asked Oliver if he minded helping with the dishes. Since he had nothing else to do – except for studying, but his books could wait for another few minutes, he figured – he might as well do the dishes indeed.

He would have thought twice when he found out that he was supposed to help Michelle with that, but then again, she didn't look happy either. That made it far less bad for Oliver.

"How about I just use magic? At least we'll be done soon," he proposed, but she shook her head stubbornly.

"We're going to do it by hand. I'm not as lazy as you are."

Not commenting on that – one of them had to be the mature one, right? – Oliver just watched impatiently as she filled a bowl with water. He couldn't understand how Muggles could live like this. Everything was so slow; magic was much faster.

So there was no way that he was going to dry all these things by hand. When Michelle noticed this, she shot him the fiercest glare he had seen her use to far. Still, he wasn't impressed.

Now he had the time to place everything in the right cabinet or drawer, and to wonder what was wrong with this girl – again. He realised that he was doing that a whole lot, and he didn't know whether he should be happy about it.

He supposed he just wanted to figure out why she kept popping up in his dreams every night.

"What is it with you?" he asked her out of the blue. She looked up in surprise, obviously not expecting him to ask such a thing, or to speak up in general.

"What are you talking about?" she countered, sounding half angry, half bewildered.

"What have I done to you for you to get so angry with me all the time?" he demanded, and she turned back to the dishes with a huff.

Even though Oliver had expected her to snap at him now, she didn't say anything at all. She just continued piling dishes and cups and everything else at the sink, as he was no longer paying any attention to that.

When she was done, she tried to push past him, but he wasn't going to let her get away like that. "Are you jealous, or what?" he asked. Her eyes were positively shooting fire now, but he tried not to let that intimidate him. "You _are_ jealous, aren't you?"

"Let me go," she told him, not looking him in the eye. For some reason, he did let her go. Before she walked out of the kitchen, she looked back at him once more. "You really don't know anything, do you? You have no idea what it's like whatsoever."

A bit confused, Oliver stared after her at first. Then, shaking himself awake, he turned back to the sink. With one swish of his wand, everything was as good as dry, and he hastily placed everything where he thought it had come from.

He didn't know if he would be able to study tonight, after this. What had she been talking about? What didn't he know? He snorted to himself. Why would he even care? He'd better do something useful tonight – and with that, he didn't mean pondering on what that crazy girl was insinuating now.

* * *

**A/N**: So... what do you think? I hope you liked this slightly longer chapter :) Let me know if you have any questions/comments, please review! :D


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Oliver decided that perhaps, he should go to the library. There were even less distracting factors there, and he needed to focus. Transfiguration wasn't the easiest class in the bunch. As a matter of fact, it might just be the hardest one. A downside of the library was the fact that he couldn't practise, but he could always do that when he came back.

So after having breakfast, he asked Mrs Roberts where he could find the library, and she gladly explained it to him. She even gave him money to buy himself some lunch, and no matter how much Oliver protested, she insisted, saying that he hadn't bought himself a snack after all the day before.

The library, he immediately noticed, was rather empty. There weren't very many people, and he blamed the fact that is was Easter break. No one in their right mind would go to the library if they didn't have to, especially now.

It didn't surprise him at all to see Michelle there as well, but before she could take notice of him, he was gone again. He didn't want to be around her, and she didn't appear to want to be around him. Easy enough. Sitting down in the furthest corner of the library, he took his Transfiguration book out of the bag Mrs Roberts had lent him as well and opened it.

o-o-o-o-o

Some time later – Oliver was certain that it was almost lunch time, as his stomach started grumbling – he gathered his stuff again and hastily walked out of the library. He thought that he had seen a pub of sorts on his way to the library, and he hoped that he could buy some food there.

Apart from some boys and girls of around his own age, there was nobody in there. They all eyed him curiously, as if nobody ever came her except for them. As if they had never seen a stranger in their entire lives. Ignoring them, Oliver sought out a spot close to the window and picked up the menu. Or, what he supposed was the menu. There wasn't much on there, and half of what was on there was unknown to him.

Before he had made his choice, the door opened again. Out of habit, he glanced up to see who it was, and immediately looked away again. If he had known that she would come here for lunch, he would have thought twice about walking in.

It appeared that Michelle knew the other people who were there already, and Oliver peeked over the top of his menu to have another look at the group. Were they her friends? That was very likely, as they greeted her happily.

After a few minutes, they suddenly started speaking louder, as if they were excited about something.

"Do you know who that is?" someone asked.

"I've never seen him before."

"Why would he be here?"

Staring out of the window, Oliver didn't need more than one guess to know whom they were talking about. He wondered whether they were speaking so loudly just so he could hear them, or because they thought he was deaf or that they weren't actually so loud.

"God, what are _you_ doing here?" That question was obviously directed at him, and Oliver had noticed a person approaching him in the reflection of the window.

"Having lunch," he replied, facing Michelle. "I wasn't aware that that was forbidden."

"But – why here?" she asked oddly.

"It was the only place I had found around here so far." That was true. It wouldn't surprise him, actually, if this was really the only place to have lunch in the entire town.

She sighed heavily and turned back around. As he hadn't expected anything else, that was just fine for him. He could hear her friends launch all sorts of questions at her as she sat back down.

"Some friend of Lori's who came over for the holiday," he could hear her mutter, and he huffed. A friend of Lori's? Really?

Before he knew it, however, two boys were standing where Michelle just stood, and one of them said, "You can join us, if you want to."

"Oh, no, that's okay," he swiftly declined. The boys were quickly joined by a girl who almost dragged him over to where the group was sitting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michelle narrow her eyes.

"So, who are you?" the girl who had dragged him over asked eagerly.

The entire group looked at him with great interest – except for Michelle, of course. She just rolled her eyes, and Oliver shrugged at her. It wasn't _his_ fault he was here.

"I'm Oliver Wood. And I'm _not_ a friend of Lori's." He glared in Michelle's direction, and now she huffed.

"Why are you here, then?" she challenged him.

"Because I didn't know her at all, and I'm supposed to study," he retorted. "Trust me, it wasn't my idea."

"So you're attending the same school Lori and Steven go to?" another girl asked him, and he nodded hesitantly. He hoped that he wouldn't have to come up with a name or something.

"You mean that school for kids with study issues?" a boy asked him. A silence followed in which Oliver tried desperately to catch Michelle's eye, to get her to let him know whether that was correct or not. She, however, evaded his gaze by looking at the table instead.

"Yes, that's the one," Oliver responded in the end. A school for kids with trouble studying? It was hard to believe that that was what they had come up with to explain the absence of those two kids during the year.

Right then, someone came to ask them what they wanted to eat, and it turned out that almost everyone had already eaten. Oliver decided that it would be safest to pick something he knew, so he ordered some toast, no matter how oddly everyone stared at him.

"Make that two," Michelle piped up all of a sudden, not looking him in the eye again.

"I didn't know you were hungry," the boy sitting next to her said confusedly.

"What does it matter?" she asked, staring at the window, seemingly in thought.

The boy shut up, but upon seeing Oliver looking their way, he narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, and Oliver shrugged.

"Nothing, why?"

"Stay out of other people's business," the boy muttered. Not knowing what to think of that, Oliver cast Michelle a glance, and she smiled somewhat apologetically at him. Now that was unexpected. "I didn't even know you liked toast," the same boy told her.

"_What does it matter_?" she repeated, sounding exasperated now. "Why is that so important to you?"

Not answering again, the boy shot Oliver a glare and started a conversation with some of his other friends.

Two minutes later, the toast arrived, and Oliver was glad for the distraction. At least he had something to do now. He was starting to feel rather uncomfortable, listening to the various conversations without knowing any background.

He ate in silence – as did Michelle – and when he was done, he figured that it was probably for the best to go back to the library. After telling the group that he should be off again, and after paying, he quickly left, not ignoring the protests of some of them.

Arriving in the library, he sat down at a table slightly closer to the entrance, as he didn't feel like it mattered where exactly he sat. If he could study, it was good enough for him.

He had been sitting there for less than ten minutes when he heard something. He looked up and saw, to his surprise, Michelle sitting down opposite him, not looking him in the eye again, but definitely there. Certain that this was not the table she had been sitting earlier on, he continued staring at her for another minute. She didn't look up – after all, she was a master at ignoring him – but he just couldn't look away. Not that he was enchanted by her or anything – he was just wondering why she was behaving like this. One moment she acted as if she despised him, though she hardly even knew him, and the next, she almost seemed like a normal human being.

In the end, he turned back to his own books, but he couldn't really focus. It was strange, and incredibly annoying as well. He couldn't help glancing at her every few minutes. She was only concentrating on her book, and it irritated him immensely that she was a much quicker reader than he was, even if he wouldn't look up. Then again, Lori had described her as quite the book lover already, so she must be used to reading a lot and reading quickly.

Merlin, why was he thinking about all this? He had better things to do than overthinking this situation as radically as he did now.

He didn't know how long they sat there, but at some point, he felt something poking his arm. As he looked up, they both blinked, probably at the sudden eye-contact, and she quickly pulled her own arm back.

"Dinner's in half an hour," she whispered quietly, and he had to listen very carefully to make out what she was saying exactly. "I don't know about you, but I'm going home."

He nodded hastily and shoved all his stuff in the bag again. When he stood up, she was still frowning at the spot where he had just been sitting. Odd.

"Why did you sit with me?" he asked as they walked out of the building and onto the street. He really wanted to know the answer to that.

"I don't know," she replied softly. "It would just be weird to… walk past like that, wouldn't it?"

"Didn't you hate me for some reason?" he asked, evading her question. She seemed to notice this.

"No," she responded. "Yes. I – answer my question first, would you?" Now she sounded just like she had the past few days. Oliver was beginning to wonder where that attitude had run off to.

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me," he informed her, "so I indeed walked straight past you this morning."

"I knew it," she muttered.

"Typical?" he offered, but he shut up as she shot him a dirty look.

"My sister and I don't exactly see eye to eye," she told him somewhat needlessly. He had figured that out by himself already. "So I don't exactly like her friends either."

"Oh," he said, suddenly understanding it all. Still, it wasn't very nice. "So as long as you thought I was actually Lori's friend, you hated me. When you figured out that I'm not her friend, you no longer hate me? That's just weird."

"No," she corrected him. "When I thought you were Lori's friend, I… may have acted a bit… immature. Now that you're not her friend, that's no longer necessary."

Hardly seeing any difference between the two, Oliver just shrugged. "What a sudden change of attitude," he commented, and she rolled her eyes.

"It's not as if you're entirely innocent in this matter," she reminded him, and he had to admit that she might be right. Only a little bit, though.

"But your parents didn't tell you why I was coming, then?" he asked curiously. He thought that Lori had told her parents why he was coming around for Easter, and it would be odd if they, in turn, hadn't told their oldest daughter about this.

"No, not that I remember," she replied. Oliver nodded slowly, not sure if she was speaking the truth or not.

"Charming boyfriend you've got," he changed the subject, and she looked up at him in alarm.

"Who, Jacob? He's _not_ my boyfriend. Definitely not." She looked positively disturbed as this comment, and for some reason, Oliver decided that he wasn't quite done yet.

"_He_ seemed to think so, though."

"Jake's an idiot," she informed him. "A very _possessive_ idiot. He's nice as a friend, but… that's all. Besides, he's creepy."

"Sounds like a great friend," he muttered, feeling glad that he didn't have friends like that, be they male or female.

"Yeah, well…" she mumbled in reply. In a slightly louder voice, she continued, "You were quite a hit."

"What?" he asked, not fully understanding her at first. Then – "Seriously?"

"Didn't you notice?" she asked, snorting a bit, but then she seemed to realise whom she was talking to. "Yes, you were," she added sourly. Oliver wondered why. "You're really oblivious."

He shrugged. He'd been told the same thing numerous times already by his friends, but he didn't know if it was necessarily a bad trait.

"Thank you," he therefore replied, and she rolled her eyes again. By now, they had reached their destination. Mrs Roberts looked rather surprised at seeing the two of them come in together, but she didn't comment on it, and neither did Michelle. She just ran towards her room, and Oliver followed at a much slower pace to retrieve his books from the bag, so he could give it back.

It really turned out to be dinner time – they were called back downstairs less than five minutes later, and Mr Roberts seemed to have come home as well all of a sudden.

While they ate, Mrs Roberts kept looking from Michelle to Oliver and back, as if trying to figure out what had happened. Lori and Steven, noticing their mother's not very well hidden glances, seemed curious as well. Michelle, however, had returned to her moody demeanour (probably because she was in the same room as Lori at the moment), so she just snapped at whoever tried to ask her something.

She really was a ray of sunshine.

After dinner, Michelle bolted up the stairs again, clearly happy to be out of there and away from all of them. Both Mr and Mrs Roberts shot Oliver knowing looks, but what they knew, he wasn't so sure of.

When he walked upstairs as well, he bumped into Michelle, who just exited the bathroom at that moment. Instinctively, he grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling, and he was surprised to feel some sort of… jolt shoot through his entire body. Blinking confusedly, he looked down at her, and he wasn't surprised when he saw that she wasn't looking back at him.

"Sorry about that," he said hastily, and now, she did meet his gaze. Only for a split-second, though. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled in reply. She should really work on speaking a little more clearly. "I'm sorry too. I should've just watched out. Well… uh – bye."

Frowning slightly as he stared after her, Oliver tried to make sense of what had just happened. Where did that weird feeling come from? Sure, he was glad that she didn't snap or shout or hiss at him for bumping into her, but this was entirely new to him.

That evening, he practised the spells and hexes he had read all about in the library, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting off every now and then. This would really be a night full of wonderfully incomprehensible dreams. He was sure of it.

* * *

**A/N**: So... what do you think? :) Let me know, please review!


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